I think maybe there's a hope in your soul
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: "Do you remember the Yule Ball?" :: Neville and Ginny, reminiscing and trying not to break.


Written for Hogwarts' Around the World Event: Guinea-Bissau - Word: Gambol, the National Princess Day Event: Éowyn - Lord of the Rings - Write about caring for someone, the Writing Club: Showtime - Doing This - (situation) First kiss and the Divination Assignment - Tea leaves: Write about someone falling down, (word) secrecy.

Also for Shepherd Queen, who asked for NevilleGinny.

 _Word count:_ 1757

* * *

 **I think maybe there's a hope in your soul**

"Do you remember the Yule Ball?" Ginny asked Neville suddenly. The question felt out of place. Random, somehow, but Neville knew too well the dangers of getting lost inside your own mind these days. He had learned the value of distractions.

She swiped a balm they had 'stolen' from Mrs. Pomfrey over the worst of the wounds on his hands with barely a wince at their atrocity, her eyes looking up at him expectantly. They were a warm kind of brown, almost like chocolate.

"Stop," he told her when she went to dip her tissue back into their too quickly diminishing supply of healing cream. "This is good enough."

His wounds were still bleeding sluggishly but they were no longer the large gashes they had been moments earlier. An _Episkey_ would take care of the rest, though it was unfortunately far more painful than using the balm would have been.

Ginny's fingers rested on his hands fleetingly, carefully avoiding the hurt areas. Neville could tell she wanted to hold his hands tight and he wished she would. At this point, he might even welcome the pain, if it meant touching her.

Her eyes were full of fire as she spoke. "There's really no need for you to play the martyr here—Merlin knows we have enough of those already."

Her lips pulled downward in the sad smile that told him she was thinking of Harry again, though she shook her head slightly and her face cleared. "We're counting on you here," she said before casting the spell that closed Neville's wounds properly, only leaving slightly pink raised skin behind.

Ginny grimaced at her work—it was in times like these that they felt Luna's absence the most keenly. Everyone had learned to use basic healing spells, but only a handful were truly skilled at them, and of those Luna had been the best.

Ginny barely rated average in comparison, and she put away her wand with a small sigh.

Neville flexed his hands carefully, sending her a grateful smile when the skin stretched but didn't break. It ached still, but at least it no longer stung. He surrendered to his earlier urge and grabbed Ginny's hand, holding them gently between his. "We all depend on you too, you know." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "We both know you're much better at morale than I am."

Ginny huffed a laugh and shoved her shoulder against his. She didn't move her hands, and Neville's thumbs started tracing slow circles over her skin as she watched. "You're not _that_ bad," she said with a teasing smirk. "Honestly, the fact that you still fight the Carrows helps more than you know," she added, face sobering up quickly, eyes turning as unyielding as steel.

"You fight them just as much as I do," Neville protested.

Ginny shrugged. "True, but I've always been a bit 'wild," she said, air quoting something they had both heard the Carrows sneer at her face a hundred times, as though it was even an insult. "You, on the other hand, used to be shy."

"Alright, alright, you win," he relented, blushing. "But you're really just as important to the DA as I am. We couldn't do this without you— _I_ couldn't do this without you."

"I'm sure you could, if you had to," she replied, smiling wryly. They both knew that it was true, too, even if it was something they usually refrained from saying. Luna's disappearance had proved that they were far from invulnerable, as if the daily Death Eater torture going on inside the school hadn't been enough to do that.

"I could," Neville admitted, throat tight, "but I never want to have to."

Ginny's breath caught in her chest and they fell silent, staring into each other's eyes with barely a blink. It was as though time had stopped from them. They were wrapped in their own bubble of reality, where the air felt warm and electric and nothing could disturb them. Neville's heart was pounding in his chest. It felt so loud he wondered how Ginny didn't seem to hear it.

This close, he could see that Ginny's eyes weren't just brown. There were tiny flakes of gold swimming around in that earthy sea, and they were mesmerizing to watch. He wondered how he'd never noticed them before and his eyes fell to Ginny's lips almost as an afterthought.

It felt like a betrayal to be even considering this. For years he had thought that she liked Harry and that Harry liked her back—they had even dated, for Merlin's sake—but then, Harry had broken up with her and gambolled off Merlin knew where.

As though Ginny was the kind of girl who needed to be kept safe. Harry had really screwed up with that one, and he probably didn't even know it.

But it didn't matter that even though Ginny clearly missed him and wished him safe, she probably wouldn't be getting back with Harry—Harry was still Neville's friend, and it felt weird to know he had feelings to someone he had spent so long convincing himself was off-limits.

"Wait," he said as the thought occurred to him, eyes drifting back up to Ginny's mirthful eyes, "what did you mean by 'Do you remember the Yule Ball'?"

Hope tasted like honey on his tongue, as fragile as spun sugar and twice as exquisite.

"I meant 'Do you remember the Yule Ball'?" she repeated with a teasing smile that made her face light up and caused Neville's heart to skip a beat. She rolled her eyes when Neville only frowned and stared at her. "It was fun, wasn't it? You had a good time, right? _I_ had a good time," she said, cheeks flushing pink a little.

Neville thought back to that night. It felt so long ago, almost in another life. It had been so magical, and thinking about it made him realize, not for the first time, that this had probably been the moment he had fallen in love with Ginny Weasley.

He just hadn't been able to help it, even if they had only gone out as friends. He had taught himself to dance just so he wouldn't embarrass her too much, but even when he stepped on her feet for the fiftieth time, she'd only laughed and dragged him into another dance.

She'd confessed, later, breathless as she downed her second glass of the fizzy flavored water they had at the refreshments table, that the trick of it was to charm you shoes into being tougher than they actually were.

"I can do yours if you want," she'd said, laughing, when Neville had stared at his own shoes like they'd betrayed him. "I know I've stepped on your feet a fair amount of times."

Neville hadn't managed to conceal his wince in time and she had laughed again, a warm sound that crackled like fire. With her hair curling down her shoulders, she had looked like some kind of a summer spirit and Neville had seen himself fall for her, helpless to do anything to stop it.

And then he had tripped and actually fallen down, nearly dragging Ginny down with him. He had been surprised she had kept dancing with him afterward, even when other boys came in to beg her for a dance.

"Yes," he finally said with a smile, "I remember the Ball. And I had fun too."

"Good," Ginny replied, nodding once determinedly. She stood up and her brow furrowed in thought for a moment, before a low but familiar crooning music started to echo through the room. "I love this room!" she exclaimed, and Neville had to agree. The Room of Requirement and it endless possibilities was definitely one of Hogwarts' greatest secrets.

"So," Ginny asked, offering him her hand playfully, "will you give me this dance?"

Neville huffed out a laugh and placed his hand in hers. She pulled him up with a strength that never failed to surprise him and Neville found herself looking down and into her eyes before he could even get out the word 'Yes'.

It was then that Neville belatedly realized that they were truly alone. Somehow, while he and Ginny had been talking and reminiscing, everyone had left the room until they were the only people still there. It felt like the worst kind of secrecy, but Neville appreciated it all the same, especially as he knew that venturing outside this room was more dangerous for some than others.

Not that most wouldn't still jump at the chance for an actual change in scenery, but still.

Neville hadn't danced since the Ball but he found that the steps came back to him easily. He got so lost in the moment that it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize that the music was on loop, at which point he snorted softly.

"What is it?" Ginny asked without pausing.

Neville shook his head fondly. "I just realized… How long have you been planning this for?"

Ginny grinned so hard it hurt her cheeks a little. "A while," she admitted. "Why, does that bother you?"

She whirled away from him and then Neville whirled her back. The move didn't look as smooth as it could have, probably, but seeing as neither of them were professional dancers Neville felt inclined to forgive them for those tiny mistakes. Especially as they only made the dance more real.

"No," he answered, feeling somewhat surprised by how true that was, "it doesn't." A couple of years ago, he'd have hated the manipulation, but now he could appreciate how swiftly it had run, how completely and willingly Neville had fallen into Ginny's web. Besides, it only showed that she shared his interest—there was no world in which he'd ever be able to resent her for that.

Ginny stopped dancing so suddenly Neville almost tripped right over her. She laced her arms around his neck, looking up at him through his eyelashes. Neville's breath faltered and his eyes dropped down to Ginny's pink lips, which Ginny seemed to take as approval, or perhaps permission.

She closed the space between them slowly enough that Neville could have backed out if he'd truly wanted to, but he didn't. Instead, he leaned in toward her.

When their lips met, it felt like he was tasting the sun. Ginny's lips were warm and pliant against his, but the kiss was electric and unlike anything Neville had ever felt before.

He never wanted this to stop.


End file.
